You Promised Me a Ride
by onlymystory
Summary: The last time Isaac tried asking Lydia Martin out, she told him to come back when the bike he rode had an engine, not a chain. He does.


"Ugh, please don't date a freshman," begs Allison. "Besides, I thought you weren't interested in training a new boyfriend."

Lydia smirks and plucks the physics book Allison was looking for out of the locker. "I prefer the term cultivating. And I don't want a boyfriend. I want a distraction."

She's interrupted by the sound of an engine, one that sounds far closer than could be considered school sanctioned. A motorcycle roars up the steps of the school, through the double doors, and skids to a stop in front of them.

The rider pulls his helmet off in a way that isn't cheesy slow motion, but is certainly designed to still make an impression, and Isaac Lahey grins devilishly at her.

Isaac has had the misfortune to make it on Lydia's radar once, and the coincidence to appear on it twice. The first was when they were freshmen. He'd been just another puppy at her heels, one who finally got up the courage to beg for a treat. As though Lydia would have been remotely interested. She'd snubbed him hard, insisting that if he wanted a date, to come back when the bike he rode to school had an engine, not a chain.

The second and third appearances were more recent and filed under curious observation. Isaac's father was mysteriously killed six months ago. The teen somehow ended up with the Hales. Lydia probably wouldn't have noticed that Isaac had been inducted into the Leather Dumpling Gang-as Allison liked to call them-if it wasn't for the mutual boredom agreement that she had with Stiles Stilinski.

An agreement that technically ended last Tuesday. It seems Peter Hale holds a greater appeal.

Allison elbows her hard, causing Lydia to shake her thoughts away and focus.

"I'll pick you up at seven," finishes Isaac.

Lydia has no idea what he said before. "Sounds perfect." She looks him up and down as she answers, taking in the hardened muscles, the way his shoulders fill out his sweater, and his...well he fits his clothes nicely is the point.

Isaac catches her gaze and licks his lips when her eyes move upward, just enough of a tease before a teacher has Isaac's arm and is dragging him down the hall to the principal's office.

Lydia laughs to herself and leans against the lockers, her mind wandering what she wants to do first.

Allison's judgment is palpable. "You can't be serious. Isaac Lahey? Lydia, half this school thinks he murdered his father."

"I've met his father. Someone should have killed him sooner."

"Lydia!"

"What, Allison? The guy was an asshole. Clearly his death has done Isaac some good."

Allison slams her locker door shut with more force than necessary. "I'm just saying the guy is trouble and I don't understand why you of all people said yes."

Lydia shrugs. "Eh, I promised." She chooses to ignore the rest of Allison's protests on the way to class.

She's not trying too hard by any means, but it is safe to say that she is putting forth an effort. Lydia looks at herself in the mirror, smoothing down her skirt in approval. If there's one thing she's mastered, it's how to make an outfit speak for her, and this one is a perfect blend of prom princess and fuck me on the hood of your car. Or over a motorcycle. She's flexible. Very flexible.

Isaac shows up right on time, the sound of his bike announcing his arrival several minutes before the knock at the door. Lydia lets him inside, then makes him wait while she applies a lip gloss touchup and grabs her wallet.

"Might be hard to stay on when you have to hold onto that thing," remarks Isaac as she nods that she's ready.

Lydia takes two steps that put her nearly against him, slides her arms under his jacket and around Isaac's torso, and deftly slips the wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. "There. Now nothing will slip out until I reach in and get it." She grins triumphantly at the way Isaac's eyes darken at her words. He may have done the asking, but Lydia's always the one in control.

Any control she thought she had is thrown out the metaphorical window by the time Isaac stops. The dirt road they took off the preserve highway has them has some sort of lookout point. She's fairly certain the direction they went and the lights a few miles to her right mean they're in a private area, but one similar to the ever popular Beacon Hills makeout spot.

Isaac parks the bike against a stand, then lifts the back end to bracket it into another stand Lydia hadn't noticed. She marvels. Isaac's a great deal stronger than he looks. And he looks rather strong as it is.

Lydia sits imperiously on the back of the motorcycle, twisting one leg over the side so she can face Isaac. "Well. Aren't you going to get me down?"

Isaac's hands come to rest on the seat, bracketing her in. He leans forward and presses his lips to her own, asking permission first. She tugs the edges of his jacket, pulling him in, and parts her lips, letting Isaac lick his way inside. His kiss becomes more insistent and Lydia loses herself in it. She makes a soft moan when Isaac pulls away to nip at her earlobe, then her jaw, then he's tugging her bottom lip into his mouth and exploring all over again.

She's feeling a good deal along the way to debauched when Isaac's hand moves off the bike itself and onto her knee, teasing up under her skirt and just barely skimming the inside of her thigh. Lydia lets her legs fall open with a little moan. The tips of Isaac's fingers brush over the front panel of her underwear and before she can blink, they're gone and back on the seat.

Isaac smirks at her. "Now. Do you want me to get you down? Or do you want me to get you off?"

"Off," she begs. "Off, off, off, Jesus fuck, Isaac."

He lifts her up just enough so she can tug her panties off, tossing them to the side and then Isaac's dropping to his knees in front of her. "Hold my hair," he commands in a weird half growl. Lydia doesn't think any more of it because Isaac's head is between her legs and then his tongue is licking at her clit and all she can think is that Isaac definitely needs to become a long term distraction.

"Fuck," hisses Lydia. She's close, so close, but she's learned that she's not one of those girls gifted with a quick refractory period and they're not exactly in a place where time is no issue. "Isaac, c'mere," she begs again, tugging at his hair. His tongue is fucking magical, but with a final curl that has her keening against him, he brings his head back into view.

Isaac's lips are red and glistening and Lydia tugs him up to kiss him. She's never cared much for the taste of herself, but the taste of Isaac is addicting.

"What?" asks Isaac and he's smirking but his voice is shaky and she knows he's every bit as much on edge as she is.

Lydia kisses him again while her hands reach into his pocket and dig the condom out of her wallet. He gets her jacket the rest of the way off, then tugs the edge of the dress down, letting her breasts out where he can lick at her nipples and start her moaning all over again.

It takes a minute before she can speak. "You promised me a ride," she says, her free hand deftly unbuttoning Isaac's jeans and pulling down the zipper so she can reach inside and grasp his length.

"Lydia," whines Isaac and his teeth nip at her skin in reaction. His hands move to help push his jeans and boxers down, then he's ripping open a packet of lube from a different pocket as she slides the condom on his cock. Isaac slicks himself up with one hand and cups her tit with another, his thumb swiping across the edge, making her whimper. Then he's lifting her up again, turning them so Isaac's the one leaning against the bike and her legs are wrapped around him, her hands clinging to Isaac's shoulders.

She lowers herself down slowly, sinking onto his dick and relishing in the familiar sensation of being utterly full.

Isaac kisses her when she stills. "Good?" he asks, cutting off her yes with another kiss.

Lydia finally takes back the control, setting the pace as she rocks against him, loving the moans Isaac makes against her mouth as he matches her thrust for thrust.

She rocks slower as she comes back to the edge, "Isaac-fuck-come on." He slams in hard, Lydia shudders through her own release, and she can't tell which of them came first, but there are long moments of panting heavily against each other before either one is recovered enough to speak.

Isaac tugs his pants back up while she fixes her dress. The panties stay wherever she tossed them. "That was amazing," says Isaac, leaning in to kiss her again.

His phone buzzes as he's pulling the bike free and he checks it once she's situated on the seat again, helmet in hand. "It's Derek. Wants to know how the date went." Lydia grabs his wrist before he can put the phone away.

"Tell Derek you'll see him in the morning. I'm not done with you yet."


End file.
